Defections
by Finnish Muggle
Summary: What if Harry had reacted more strongly to what Dumbledore revealed at the end of fifth year? This story explores one possible extremity. No slash.
1. Consequences of a Conversation

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. A tiny part of the first chapter is copied from the Harry Potter Wiki.

**Warnings: **Dark!Harry, cruel!manipulative!Dumbledore, character deaths, torture. Nothing graphic.

**Author's Notes: **This is my take on what could have happened after Harry's meeting with Dumbledore at the end of OotP.  
>The story will completely ignore HBP (and DH); there will be no traces of those novels' plotlines included. I'll leave you to figurefind out exactly what that means.  
>I do not have a Beta reader (I am not comfortable with letting another person read the chapters before they're published), and I never manage to spot all the mistakes before publishing, no matter how many times I proofread the chapters, so please bear with me.<p>

English is not my native language, so I may use both British and American spelling with some words. I try not to, though.

There won't be any major pairings in this story. Some minor ones (none with Harry) may be mentioned, and mentioned only, but they play no role whatsoever. This is not a romance fic.

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><p><strong>+ 01: Consequences of a Conversation +<strong>

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><p>Harry Potter was lying on his bed in his bedroom at Number Four, Privet Drive, hating the world in general. The fifteen-year-old's emerald green eyes were glaring at the sickly peach coloured ceiling, apparently attempting to drill a hole in the paint-coated wood. The bed Harry was lying on was too small for him; he had to curl his legs a little unless he wanted them to dangle over the foot of the piece of furniture. Harry had grown quite a bit since he had first been moved to the room, although he was still small for his age.<p>

On the desk near the bed stood a cage, in which Harry's faithful snowy owl, Hedwig, was sleeping. It was around two o'clock in the afternoon, so the owl would not be leaving to hunt for hours.

In one corner of the room was Harry's school trunk, still fully packed and locked. Harry had not bothered opening it yet, despite it being five days since he had returned to Surrey from his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The school year had been far from pleasant. The new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor had been a total nightmare. Not only had she refused to teach anything practical, she had also managed to temporarily replace Dumbledore as the Head of the school. Her damned Educational Degrees had made the students' lives extremely unpleasant, with the exception of those who had been in her "Inquisitorial Squad"; an arrangement that had efficiently undermined the Prefect system. Harry, not unlike dozens of others, had hated Dolores Umbridge with a passion. Harry had had even more reason to do so than the others, as Umbridge had taken him as her eye-sore, taking every chance to defame him.

And then there had been the Occlumency lessons with Snape. The mutual loathing between Harry and the man had likely been a major part of why neither of the two had really tried to make it work. Snape had neglected to properly instruct Harry, and the teen had not bothered to give the subject his best effort. As a result, Voldemort had successfully lured Harry to the Ministry. Harry had had a "vision" where he had seen his godfather, Sirius Black, being tortured by the Dark Lord, in the Department of Mysteries. Needless to say, Harry had flown off to "rescue" Sirius, along with five of his friends who had refused to stay behind.

In the end, the only good thing that had come from the trip to London had been Fudge seeing Voldemort with his own eyes. The Minister had been forced to _finally_ acknowledge the Dark Lord's return.

But that had been of little consolation. Sirius had ended up dead in the Death Chamber of the Department, and the loss had been terrible. Bellatrix Lestrange, whose unidentified spell had caused Sirius's death, had experienced the full strength of Harry's grief and fury when he had attempted to use the Cruciatus Curse on her. Shortly after Harry had unsuccessfully cast the Unforgivable, Voldemort himself had appeared, and only Dumbledore's arrival soon thereafter had saved Harry's life.

And yet the Headmaster was the one person Harry currently hated more than anyone, including the Dark Lord. Dumbledore had admitted he had known what went on at the Dursleys when Harry was in the house, and never done anything to stop it. The conversation, during which Harry had destroyed several of the delicate silver instruments in Dumbledore's office, at the end of the school year had given Harry a lot to think about. It had been a shock to hear the Prophecy and Dumbledore's interpretation of it. Harry did not want to become a murderer, but nor did he wish to be killed by Voldemort. However, Harry had given more consideration to what Dumbledore had told him – and likely left out – than the Prophecy. The fifteen-year-old had begun to suspect Dumbledore had in fact engineered the events of his first school year. It was just too difficult to believe the Philosopher's Stone had been protected by means mere first-years had been able to get past. No, it was far more likely the whole thing had meant as a challenge for Harry, Ron and Hermione. How could Dumbledore possibly have failed to notice one of his staff members was "infected" by the Dark Lord himself? Not to mention Harry's fourth year, and the Death Eater who had successfully impersonated Alastor Moody, the Defence Professor, nearly long enough to finish off Harry.

Harry had come to believe Dumbledore was far from the grandfatherly figure he liked to play. Had the man not said he had come to care about Harry more than his plan, as if it were a bad thing? Was Harry nothing more than a pawn? It was not a pleasant thought, but Harry could not stop suspecting it was the truth. Dumbledore had claimed he had done everything for the "Greater Good", which made it sound like he thought ends justified means. It was impossible not to wonder how much further the Headmaster was willing to go to get rid of the Dark Lord – or what all he had done in the name of that Greater Good of his.

What would happen, should Harry manage to kill the Dark Lord? At the moment the teen felt like a weapon that would be useless once its purpose was fulfilled. Harry doubted he would ever be left alone, in any case. Now that the Wizarding World finally believed Voldemort was back the _Daily Prophet_ had begun to call Harry the Chosen One, or something like that. If he was this famous before he had even defeated the Dark Lord and fulfilled the Prophecy, what would the people's reaction be if Harry actually won? They would never let him be forgotten, that much was certain. After all, Dumbledore was still respected for having defeated the previous Dark Lord, Grindelwald. Why should Harry's situation be any different?

On a whim, Harry decided to write two letters with practically identical content. He had begun to think Dumbledore was worse than Voldemort, and wished to see whether that was, in fact, the truth. So, he would send both wizards a letter asking exactly what they were going to do with him. Foolish as it might be, Harry was past caring. Dealing with both the grief over Sirius and Dumbledore's revelations was taking its toll on him. He needed to get an answer to that one question. Of course, it would be entirely possible for both Dumbledore and Voldemort to simply ignore the letter, or reply with falsehoods... but somehow Harry was quite sure he would get two replies. And the Dark Lord had always been honest about his intentions: he wanted to see Harry dead, and rule the Wizarding Britain. Dumbledore, on the other hand, was a master at spinning half-truths, not to mention his manipulative nature. How many times had the Headmaster successfully gotten Harry to change his mind and agree to do things he'd rather not have done?

Harry spent a while pondering what to put in the letters, but in the end decided to be curt and go straight to the point.

Once he finished writing the first letter, he copied the words onto another piece of parchment, only changing whom the letter was addressed to. Next, Harry opened his trunk to dig out his money bag. It would be too risky to send Hedwig to either of the recipients, so he would go to Diagon Alley and visit the Owl Post Office there.

The Dursleys were only too happy to hear Harry was leaving the house for some time. Moody's threats at King's Cross had worked better than Harry had dared to hope. His relatives no longer neglected him; for the first time in his years at Privet Drive Harry did not suffer from hunger. He didn't have any chores, either, which left him with loads of free time.

Harry took the Knight Bus to London, and was glad once the bumpy ride ended. He hopped out of the bus and entered the Leaky Cauldron. There weren't many customers there, and Tom was nowhere to be seen. Swiftly crossing the pub, Harry soon reached Diagon Alley, which was packed. Pulling up the hood of his cloak, having no desire to to be recognized and mobbed, Harry made his way to the Owl Post Office.

There were _hundreds_ of owls there, ranging from Great Grey Owls to tiny Scops (the latter for "local deliveries only"), hooting down from colour-coded shelves. The shelves were colour-coded based on how quickly they would arrive at their destination. Since Harry had no idea where Voldemort's hideout was located, he chose a long-distance owl to deliver that letter. Same went for Dumbledore, as it was entirely possible the Headmaster was not at Hogwarts.

Harry arranged for the owls to return to the address he gave before flying back to the Post Office, and paid for the services. Then, he decided he could use some books that weren't school texts, and thus made his way to Flourish and Blotts. Harry had never read a Wizarding equivalent of Muggle novels, so he bought several of them. It would be nice to read a book whose sole purpose wasn't to educate its reader.

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><p>A week later Harry received a reply from the Headmaster, and the letter was typical Dumbledore.<p>

_Dear Harry,_

_I cannot fathom why you sent me that letter, but nevertheless decided to answer your question._

_I wish to train and mould you in order for you to gain the necessary skills to defeat Voldemort. As you now know, you are the only one who can rid our world of him and his Darkness. In fact, this next school year I am going to properly start your training. There are a number of things you still need to learn, or get significantly better at._

_I sincerely hope you are doing well, and not spending all of your time dwelling on past events. Most importantly, do not blame yourself for what happened at the Ministry. You are not at fault, Harry. Keep that in mind._

_- A. D._

The letter was _so_ typical Dumbledore that Harry rolled his eyes at it. However, the mention of training did sound rather intriguing. Harry wondered what he would be taught. He had a sneaking suspicion his Occlumency lessons would continue. And since the only possible instructors in that subject were Snape and Dumbledore, Harry really hoped he was wrong in assuming he'd have to attempt to repel Legilimency attacks again. On a lighter note, though, the other parts of his training were likely to be interesting – as long as the instructors were competent and actually did their job.

As for Dumbledore's answer to the question, Harry doubted the old man was being honest. He had simply repeated what he had said earlier, and the words made it sound like Harry was indeed a mere weapon.

_Well, let's see whether Voldemort replies at all..._

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><p>A few days later Harry received a second letter.<p>

_Potter,_

_I don't know what you're playing at, sending me a letter like that... but the answer to your question is this: I intend to kill you, plain and simple. You're a thorn in my side; therefore you will have to be eliminated._

_Don't bother trying to find out where this letter came from. I have personally made sure it is impossible to find out._

_- Lord Voldemort_

The letter was written in red ink that eerily reminded Harry of blood. Typical Voldemort, as was the letter itself. The Dark Lord certainly did not beat around the bush, so to speak. Harry definitely preferred that style to Dumbledore's vague words and assurances.

But which of the two was worse?

Harry reread both of the letters several times, unable to come to a decision. In the end, he figured it would be best to give it some time, and try again after a good night's sleep. He put the letters away and then wandered downstairs, as it was dinnertime.

* * *

><p>Harry had made his decision. Dumbledore was simply too uncaring and manipulative; the man could no longer be trusted. As of yet Harry didn't know what he was going to do once he returned to Hogwarts, but he definitely would not agree to anything against his own free will. He refused to continue being Dumbledore's perfect little weapon. Instead, he would do his best to avoid the old wizard and his machinations. He would continue with the DA if whoever the new Defence Professor would be turned out to be yet another incompetent idiot. In his five years at Hogwarts, Harry had only had one proper teacher at that particular subject: Remus Lupin. While the fake Moody had been good, he <em>had<em> been a Death Eater who'd tried to kill Harry. The fifteen-year-old was sure he had passed his Defence O.W.L. with flying colours, so he would definitely continue taking the class.

The following day would be Harry's sixteenth birthday, so he was happy having made his decision. Now that that matter was resolved, he could enjoy the last day of July. Sure, the Dursleys wouldn't even acknowledge his birthday, but his friends hopefully would. Harry had not received a single letter, apart from the two he'd initiated, from anyone, which was odd. Even the previous summer he had gotten mail, although there had been next to no news in those letters.

_Perhaps Dumbledore has forbidden Ron and Hermione to write to me,_ Harry mused. He would not have been surprised it that was indeed the case. The old wizard obviously assumed Harry was still grieving Sirius, which he wasn't, except occasionally. He had spent the summer after his fourth year having nightmares about the graveyard and Cedric, and did not intend to repeat that with the Death Chamber and Sirius. Harry could not afford to not get over his godfather's death, but that didn't mean he loved him any less.

When Harry went to bed that night he left his window open, as Hedwig was out hunting. Privet Drive was a quiet neighbourhood, so Harry was not worried someone would take advantage of the open window. Besides, there was no ladder near Harry's room and no conveniently placed trees either, so it would extremely difficult for a burglar to climb in. And, according to Dumbledore, no Death Eater or Dark Lord could even see the house, much less get inside.

It didn't take Harry long to fall asleep; having determined Dumbledore was the one he'd need to be the most careful around, Harry's mind was no longer working on that particular dilemma.

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><p><strong>AN #2: **Not that long of a first chapter, but it did get the plot moving quite nicely. You can expect to see chapter two sometime within the next two weeks, depending on how busy I am.


	2. A New Friend

**Warning: **Clichés ahead... nothing major, though.

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><p><strong>+ 02: A New Friend +<strong>

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><p>July 31st turned out to be a rainy day. Harry woke up early in the morning, and immediately went to close the window. There was a small puddle on the floor, the wind having caused it to rain inside. The parquet floor hardly appreciated the water, so Harry quickly wiped it with an overlarge T-shirt he never wore.<p>

Hedwig had returned at some point, and was now perched on top of Harry's wardrobe, sleeping. Harry took the opportunity to clean her cage, wishing he were allowed to use magic. A quick _Scourgify_ would have easily gotten rid of the owl droppings. Not that Harry minded the minor chore; Hedwig was his most faithful friend, after all.

After he finished with the cage, Harry headed downstairs for some breakfast.

The Dursleys once again fell silent the moment Harry entered the kitchen, and did not resume their conversation before the sixteen-year-old had left the room to go back upstairs. Harry found his relatives' behaviour quite amusing, not that he was complaining. Had the Dursleys continued their earlier abuse of him, Harry did not know whether he could have taken it, after Dumbledore had revealed he was aware of the events in the house. If he was totally honest with himself, Harry was quite sure he would have snapped, and cursed the damn Muggles, had they attempted to physically attack him. He was done being Dudley's boxing bag, not to mention Vernon's scapegoat. The obese man had used to blame everything bad that happened to him or his family on Harry, regardless of how ridiculous the accusations had been. It had been Harry's fault Vernon had gotten in a car crash. When the house was broken into by some random burglar, Harry had been at fault. Vernon had forgotten to pay an electricity bill, and Harry had somehow caused his uncharacteristic forgetfulness.

Returning to his bedroom, Harry spotted an owl hovering behind the now closed window. He hurried over to let the bird inside, only to realize there were _four_ owls waiting for him. They must have travelled together, for none of them had been there when he had first left.

Harry recognized two of the four birds; Errol was the Weasley family owl, while the tiny but hyper Pigwidgeon belonged to Ron.

Each owl carried a letter, but there were no packages. Harry quickly untied the messages, noticing they were all from different senders. One of them was from the Ministry, and another from Hogwarts. The teen did not need two guesses as to what the Ministry letter included.

Deciding the leave the O.W.L. results for last, Harry opened the letter Errol had (miraculously) delivered. It was from Ron.

_Harry,_

_I'm sorry I haven't written earlier, but Dumbledore once again forbade Hermione and me to contact you. Only the fact that it's your birthday today made him relent and allow us to send you a letter each.  
>So, how're you doing, apart from the obvious? Are the Muggles treating you better than before now that they've been threatened? I should hope they are!<em>

_There's not much going on here at the Burrow. Hermione arrived a week or so ago, and she's been driving me nuts with her constant fidgeting about the O.W.L.s... as if she has anything to worry about. I think we'll get our results in a couple days' time, so the wait's nearly over._

_But I guess it's time for me to get to the point... so, Happy Birthday! Only one more year till you're of age! It'll be great, being allowed to do magic outside of school, right?_

_I would've sent you a gift, but Dumbledore said you were not to be sent any packages. I wonder what the old man's problem is... but don't tell Mum I said – well, wrote – that! _

_I really hope you'll be allowed to join us when we go to Headquarters next week, to spend the rest of the summer there. If not, then I'll see you on the train._

_- Ron_

So Dumbledore _was _behind the lack of post. Well, that really did not surprise Harry. But why had the old man disallowed the sending of packages? Was he determined to make Harry's summer as boring as possible?

Shrugging, Harry picked up the letter that had arrived with Pig. Unsurprisingly that one was from Hermione.

_Dear Harry,_

_I don't know what Dumbledore is thinking, but he wouldn't allow Ron and me to send you any mail until today. I'm sure he has his reasons, but it's still odd._

_Nevertheless, Happy Birthday! I hope you're doing all right, despite everything. At least your relatives should be behaving, what with Moody's threat hanging over their heads! I'll give you your birthday present when I next see you; hopefully that will be at Headquarters before September._

_I can hardly wait to see how I did in my O.W.L.s! Ron said the results should be arriving very soon, though he didn't mention where he'd heard that. I'm really nervous... I'm sure I made some stupid mistakes that will have dropped my grades. Ron keeps saying I'm going to get all Outstandings, and that definitely is not helping. Well, I guess I'll just have to wait. _

_When are you planning to visit Diagon Alley? Perhaps we could arrange to go on the same day._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Hermione's letter made Harry smile. It was so like her to worry about exams she had definitely passed with high grades.

He couldn't help noticing neither of his friends had actually mentioned Sirius's name, although they had both clearly referred to his death. Dumbledore had probably gotten them to believe it was best to not bring him up when writing to Harry. Or perhaps the Headmaster had simply forbidden them to directly mention him. _It would be just like Dumbledore to do something like that. Maybe he wants to make it seem like I'm some weakling who cannot get over such a great loss. Or perhaps he really believes I'm not able to move on by myself. Honestly! I'm not some baby who can't do anything without help or advice._

His smile turning into a scowl, Harry opened the letter from Hogwarts. It was just the same old note reminding him that term would start on September 1st. The supply list contained no surprises either.

Finally Harry got to the letter from the Ministry and pulled out his O.W.L. result sheet.

The results were better than he'd dared to hope. He would be able to attend all of the N.E.W.T. classes he would need to have any chance to get into the Auror training!

_ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS_

_Pass Grades: _

_Outstanding (O)  
>Exceeds Expectations (E)<br>Acceptable (A)  
><em>

__Fail Grades: __

__Poor (P)  
><em>Dreadful (D)<br>_Troll (T)_  
><em>  
><em>_

_HARRY JAMES POTTER HAS ACHIEVED:_

_ Astronomy: A  
>Care of Magical Creatures: E<br>Charms: O  
>Defence Against the Dark Arts: O<br>Divination: D  
>Herbology: A<br>History of Magic: D  
>Potions: O<br>Transfiguration: E _

Harry could hardly believe his eyes. He had gotten _three_ Os, and only two fail grades. He wasn't the least bit surprised or disappointed to see he had failed Divination and History. Whoever cared about those two subjects, anyway? Divination was rubbish, while Binns made History incredibly boring.

But how in Merlin's name had he managed to achieve an Outstanding in Potions? Charms was a slightly smaller surprise, but it _was_ unexpected.

_Well, Snape won't be happy to see me in his N.E.W.T. class, _thought Harry. _Not that I exactly like Potions... but I'm not going to drop it when I've somehow managed to pass the O.W.L. with such flying colours! _

Harry wasn't at all sure he wanted to become an Auror any longer, due to the events of the summer. What were the odds he would ever have the time for anything other than the war? School he would have to finish, but work was an entirely different matter. Besides, assuming the Prophecy was fulfilled and Harry was not the one to die, why should he continue on the same path by working as a Dark Wizard catcher?

_I guess I better go on a walk or something, and get my thoughts in order..._

Not caring about the rain, Harry left the house and headed towards a nearby park. Once there, he sat down on one of the swings, closing his eyes. It was surprisingly relaxing, sitting in the rain with no one around. The weather kept the Muggles indoors, and as far as Harry knew he was the only magical person living in the neighbourhood. Well, Mrs. Figg was a Squib, but were Squibs considered magical? Harry had no idea about that. On one hand, they were born to magical parents... but on the other hand, they didn't have any magic of their own. Harry snickered as he suddenly recalled Filch and his Kwikspell letter. It really was no wonder the caretaker hated the students; they had something precious he could never have.

Soon though, Harry was beginning to get cold, the rain having soaked him. Even though it was in the middle of summer, the water was far from warm. Shaking his wet hair away from his face, Harry stood up. But before he could take a single step, he heard hissing from somewhere near his left ankle.

"_Watch it! You almossst ssstepped on me, you clumsssy human! I ssshould bite you for that!_"

Startled, Harry looked down at his feet. There, mere millimetres from his left sneaker was a beautiful, brown and black snake. It was about two feet long, and its eyes were even blacker than Snape's. On its back was the distinctive zigzag pattern of an adder. However, Harry could sense the serpent was magical, in some way.

"_I apologize, I did not sssee you there_," replied Harry in Parseltongue. "_Pleasse do not bite me; I mean no harm."_

"_A Ssspeaker!_" the snake hissed, sounding astonished. "_I did not know there wasss a Ssspeaker around here. Don't worry, I will not bite sssomeone like yourssself. Not many humansss know the ssserpent language._"

"_Asss far asss I know, there isss only one other Parssselmouth – that isss to sssay, Ssspeaker – alive today._"

The snake looked thoughtful. "_It isss an enormousss honour to meet a Ssspeaker... would you consssider taking me with you? I would be beyond delighted to have you asss my companion,_" it then requested.

Harry was taken aback by the request. Could it do any harm to accept? Hardly. "_You wissssh to join my company?_" he asked, wanting to be sure he hadn't misunderstood.

"_Yesss. It isss quite lonely here, with only lesssssser sssnakesss for company._"

"_Lesssssser sssnakesss?_"

"_I am the only magical sssnake around here, you sssee. The othersss don't like me much."_

_Just like the Dursleys and I_, thought Harry. _Well, I fail to see why I shouldn't take this snake as my companion..._

"_All right, you're welcome to come with me. I am only too familiar with your sssituation with the othersss._"

"_Thank you,_" hissed the snake, and slithered up Harry's leg, finally curling around his left arm. With some amusement Harry noticed the snake had chosen the exact spot where the Dark Mark would be located, were he a Death Eater.

"_What would you like to be called?_" Harry asked the snake. "_Do you have a name I could call you by?_"

The snake seemed to consider this. "_I do not. You are free to name me._"

Harry didn't need long to come up with a name. "_How about Balthazar, or Zar for short?_"

"_That sssoundsss perfect. Balthazar it isss._"

That decided Harry started towards Number Four, Balthazar around his arm. The teen wondered what the Dursleys would do if the saw his new friend. Perhaps it would be best to keep Zar hidden from their eyes.

Hogwarts was an issue of its own. How would the others react to Harry Potter having a snake companion? Sure, they already knew he was a Parselmouth, but that might in fact make things worse. He'd probably end up hated or feared again. Oh, well. Hopefully Ron and Hermione would understand even if no one else did. Dumbledore... the man could do anything, really. Zar might be in serious danger from him. Harry would have to find a way to protect his friend from malicious approaches. Would Flourish and Blotts have any books on spells that would serve that purpose? He'd need to remember to find out when visiting Diagon Alley to shop for school supplies... It would also be nice to know whether Zar was indeed an adder, albeit a magical one, or something completely different.

_Seems like I have two new problems to solve... oddly enough, I don't mind these ones._

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><p><strong>AN:** Even shorter than the first chapter... but this _is_ a super speedy update. Next chapter will be considerably longer, and take a lot longer to write.  
>I wasn't originally planning to give Harry a second animal friend, but the idea just popped into my mind, demanding to be used. Well, Balthazar will certainly make things more interesting!<p> 


End file.
